


whisper in the dark

by johnjaemark



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, Angst, Ghosts, M/M, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-04-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23480821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnjaemark/pseuds/johnjaemark
Summary: “Doyoung.” The voice is a caress along his spine, rousing to his senses, setting off a shiver through his entire body. Only this voice, this person, could ever make Doyoung react so violently.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 10
Kudos: 25





	whisper in the dark

The window is open and a bird is singing, sorrowful but lovely. Petrichor drifts into the room, the air damp and sharp, but comforting. The grey clouds have receded enough that the bruised purple and blue of dusk is revealed, pretty enough to be painted, to be remembered. There are not many things in this plane of existence that are worthy of being captured for eternity, thinks Doyoung, but this sunset is one of them. 

To spend the day in bed, what a luxury, one that Doyoung is not often privy to. The sun has sunk low enough that the room has been bathed in shadows, which is what he prefers, it being the only reason he’s opened his blinds. The sight of the sun becoming a watercolor painting is just an added bonus, something that he would watch for hours on end if given the possibility. 

“Doyoung.” The voice is a caress along his spine, rousing to his senses, setting off a shiver through his entire body. Only this voice, this person, could ever make Doyoung react so violently.

Taeyong is cataclysmic and Doyoung is merely fortunate enough to have met him. He turns from the window to face his bed where his love is sprawled, a much prettier sight than even the dusk claiming the world. Taeyong’s eyes are hooded, but he still manages to peer at Doyoung through his lashes, his rose petal lips curved into a smile that promises secrets and seduction. 

Doyoung’s fingers brush along the curve of Taeyong’s cheek. “Yes, my love?”

“Have you bored of me?” Taeyong asks, fluttering his lashes in the way that makes Doyoung melt. Doyoung does melt, slipping onto the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping and bringing Taeyong’s head close to his thigh. 

“Why do you say that?” Doyoung responds with his own question, fingers fluttering over the ridge of Taeyong’s nose and then his soft lips. Taeyong puckers those very lips, pressing the smallest of kisses to the pad of Doyoung’s fingers. How lovely it is to have the day with Taeyong and his bed, the best kind of day in his own opinion. The shadows that have cloaked their room cling to Taeyong’s honey soft skin, caressing in the same way Doyoung’s fingers do.

“You seem to be far more interested in that sun set,” Taeyong teases, but he’s not truly offended. Another lovely thing to admire about Taeyong; despite how fragile he seems, he doesn’t truly get hurt that easily. It was something Doyoung didn’t just desire in a partner, but needed, in order to make the relationship work with how blunt he could occasionally be. 

“The sunset is not laying naked in my bed,” Doyoung says flatly, but his lips are twitching, begging to curve into a smile that would appease the beautiful mirage that’s sprawled over the mattress. Taeyong gasps and reaches out to smack Doyoung’s thigh, but the dark haired male catches his boyfriend’s wrist, presses small kisses along the palm all the way to the soft flesh of the wrist.

  
Taeyong’s eyelashes flutter once more, and the sunset is forgotten. All there is them, the bed, and the promise of skin on skin. Doyoung is so fortunate for this day off, even more fortunate to spend it with Taeyong, and he will not allow himself to forget that. 

*

Taeyong and Doyoung met in college, in typical cliche format. It was not love at first sight, not by a long shot. First came friendship, nurtured with tender hands by both parties, and slowly but surely it became something more. Sometimes, if they fought or went through a rough patch, their friends would ask if they regretted it, perhaps wondering if they had made a mistake. Doyoung refuses to accept that, though. No one was a better match than Taeyong and Doyoung.

They could spend entire days, screaming and fighting, but by the time the curtain fell on the day and the sun fell from the sky, they would fall into bed with each other’s hearts in their hands. Perhaps it isn’t natural, but there isn’t much about them that relates to a fairytale. They have a relationship that they love, and so they fight for it, as any reasonable couple should do. To live together, to love together, it’s all a worthy cause.

“Doie,” Taeyong calls from across the house, his voice sugary sweet like the stash of candy he keeps hidden in his night stand. “Have you seen my favorite jacket?”

Doyoung is comfortable on their couch, swathed beneath a blanket with a book in his hands, but lifts his head. “Have you checked the hooks? You know, the place where we keep all our jackets?”

Taeyong appears from around the corner, pink hair artfully ruffled despite its state being from rolling around in bed. His dark eyes are round but there’s a spiteful glint there, as if he had expected such a sarcastic comment but still managed to find room in which to resent it. His lips fold into a displeased pout that Doyoung is more than happy to soothe away with his own lips, if only Taeyong would draw a little bit closer. 

“You’re rude,” Taeyong bites out, as he always does when he feels wronged by Doyoung’s dry humor.

Doyoung shrugs, his eyes finding their way back to the book in his hands. Taeyong doesn’t find this anything nearly close to okay, judging by the way he wedges himself onto Doyoung’s lap, obscuring his sight of the book. Doyoung sighs, but drops the book and rests his hands on Taeyong’s hips instead. Taeyong drops his face into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck, nuzzling there, despite the frown that still pulls at his lips. 

“You’re in a bad mood.” This isn’t a question or a proposition, it’s a fact that Doyoung recites with the ease of someone who has studied such an event several times before. Taeyong hums noncommittally. “You could have said so. Rather than stomping around and pouting. You know that right?”

When Taeyong lifts his head, his eyes are sparkling. “And where would the find be in that?”

Taeyong craves making things difficult, to add a bump in the road that is unnecessary but inevitably adds excitement. Doyoung doesn’t admire such things, but maybe he is more fond of it than he thought, or else he wouldn’t ravish Taeyong on the couch. 

Taeyong’s giggles are magical as Doyoung kisses every inch of his body. 

*

  
  


Sometimes, Doyoung is not so sure that Taeyong is real. He can’t reconcile the ideal that a man so perfect and so extraordinarily striking can actually exist. In the mornings where they share the bathroom, dancing around each other in their daily morning routine, Doyoung catches sight of his lover in the mirror. Those are the moments that seem the most inexplicable to him. He has managed to find and fall in love with a creature that is so effortlessly lovely, it just doesn’t make sense. 

“Don’t stare so much,” Taeyong chastises, but his eyes are curved upwards, as if he is so happy that his eyes must smile separately from his mouth. Doyoung can’t help but find that endearing, the prospect that Taeyong is so happy that he must smile in more than one part of his face. 

“I’m not staring,” Doyoung immediately contradicts. It’s much too easy to start playful arguments with his love. “I’m admiring the art.”

Pink spreads over Taeyong’s cheeks, prettier than a sunset or any painting of a sunset that could be conducted. Taeyong has always been prettier than average, delightful to look at. It wasn’t just his appearance, though, in Doyoung’s opinion it’s more than that. Taeyong’s personality is just as, if not more, lovely than his appearance. Sometimes it’s hard to even reconcile the fact that Taeyong exists, if not for the fact that he’s the closest to perfect that Doyoung has ever observed in a human. 

“Art? Hmmm? Well, I believe the rule of thumb when it comes to art is to  _ look  _ not  _ touch _ ,” Taeyong teases Doyoung in such a delightful voice. Somewhere between a purr and a giggle, enticing in a way that it truly shouldn’t be. 

Doyoung rolls his eyes and grips Taeyong’s hips, pulling their bodies flush together. “I can’t have a personal tour?”

Taeyong’s laugh is abrupt but beautiful, bathing their bathroom in light and happiness. That is, essentially, what Taeyong is. Doyoung had never met someone so truly bright and beautiful in his life, not before him. He never will find someone like that again, he knows that. The world is a better place with Lee Taeyong in it, and Doyoung is a better person because of him too.

*

A knock at the door, rousing Doyoung from his restless sleep on the couch. He rubs at his eyes, squints in the darkness to make out the neon numbers that blink 7:06 PM at him. He sighs softly, forcing himself to his feet and to shuffle across the room to answer the door. Standing in the doorway, hands shoved into his pockets, is none other than Jung Jaehyun. 

“Hey, Jae,” Doyoung greets his friend then moves to the side so the other man may step inside and out of the cold. 

Jaehyun smiles, but the action is forced, his eyes portraying something much more grim than he probably intended for it to be. “Hey, Dons, how are you doing? I haven’t heard from you in awhile.”

Doyoung shrugs then gestures vaguely at the space around him, before pausing and looking around. He blinks once then twice, wonders when his living room had gotten so messy and how he hadn’t noticed. He was normally a stickler for things like that, quick to tidy up or clean any mess that arose. His living room, however, is in a state of disarray he hadn’t even noticed until faced with the fact that someone else was viewing it other than him.

“Doyoung?” Jaehyun’s voice is soft, almost sympathetic, as he tilts his head and looks his friend in the eye.

“I…” Doyoung starts, unsure where the statement would even go. He clears his throat, spits out the default answer, “I’m okay. Just been busy… You know how it is for us.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen by a fraction. “Us?”

“Yes,” Doyoung responds, blinking multiple times. He could cry for the mere fact that blinking isn’t bringing him the clarity it usually does, nothing is coming into focus. “ _ Us _ .”

“Doie… It’s just you here.”

“No, it’s  _ not _ !” Doyoung scoffs and turns on his heel, marching into his kitchen. He hasn’t had enough sleep and Jaehyun is just playing a joke on him, that’s why nothing makes sense at this moment. 

Jaehyun follows close behind, catches Doyoung by the arm. “No one has come by to see you, we’ve been giving you space like you’ve asked. So, yes, Doyoung, I do know for a fact that there is no us. Just you.”

Doyoung yanks his arm free from Jaehyun’s grip, rests his hands on the counter to center himself. He inhales deeply, shakes his head before lifting it and views his reflection in the glass of his alcohol cabinet. Behind him, vague but very clearly present, is Taeyong with his bright smile and reassuring gaze. Doyoung can almost feel his warmth at his back, his laughter dancing along the walls, slipping through his hair and into his ears.

He’s not alone, he won’t ever be alone despite what his friends say. He can never be alone because Taeyong isn’t gone, not truly. 

Doyoung smiles at Jaehyun and says, “Sorry, it must have been a dream. Stay for awhile, let’s have a drink.” 

**Author's Note:**

> this is unedited so please be kind owo. this is nothing much just an idea for a drabble i had inspired by this [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGKcT5vlRkE)
> 
> i hope you enjoy!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/slutforjseo) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/nanasbun)


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